Bluntknife
by Tiger-Samba
Summary: AU to DH: What in the world could make Malfoy join Harry, Hermione, and Ron- and Luna and Ginny too? Someone finds out rather directly. Involves irascible chickens, irrevocable curses, and the color purple. DMLL plus very mild HPGW and RWHG.
1. The Letter of Beginnings

Disclaimer: There is no Harry Potter ownage here.

**! This chapter was edited February 3 2009. !**

A/N: This is the debut of my pride and joy, _Bluntknife_. I originally started it to ease my grief about the end of the HP series, or so I said to myself. I was always hoping to post it.

This is a nice, long story- the timeline is an alternate universe to DH. I'll warn you now that I like psychology... lotta dark psychological stuff in here. But! Maybe I should stop ranting and present the object of my ranting! (sound crew scutters frantically into place) (big, explosive noise suddenly erupts from the bowels of the earth)

TADAA!

* * *

Harry was feeling apprehensive. Of course it was absolutely shocking, and in all his years at Hogwarts he had never expected such a thing. But if he had handled finding out he was a wizard, he could surely handle this, right?

It had happened earlier that morning when Draco Malfoy, whom Harry had last seen running past the Hogwarts gates with Snape, did a most curious thing and sent Harry a letter.

He was sitting in the Great Hall during breakfast the day after Dumbledore's funeral, feeling pensive. He was looking forward to a last glorious day on campus, but at the same time, he couldn't quite confront the idea that his mentor was, in fact, gone, and his joy and sadness swung like vines in the wind. In fact he was so lost in thought that he yelped out loud when Neville cautiously moved his fork, which he had been staring at for the past ten minutes. With this newfound consciousness came an awareness of a beautiful eagle owl that had landed in front of him.

Hermione was sitting next to him and, determining him hopeless, had taken the parchment from the owl and unrolled it.

"Who's it from, Hermione?" he asked quickly, shaking his head slightly to wake himself.

Hermione turned the letter over, and her bemused look was quickly replaced by utter bewilderment.

"What is it, Hermione?" Ron asked, mirroring her confusion.

"...It's from Malfoy," she replied awkwardly.

A beat.

"Don't open it, Hermione!" Ron shouted once it sank in. He had obvious reasons, but Harry stopped for a moment and thought about this odd development.

"Yeah, but… would he really bother sending us a letter just to tease us with all that has to be going on with him right now?" he said. He had told them all what he had seen on the castle ramparts in the common room earlier.

"Let me open it, Hermione. It _is_ my letter, anyway."

Hermione looked at him with a bit of concern, then said, "I suppose you're right, just know it could be something unpleasant like that pus I got one time."

"Thanks loads…The handwriting looks shaky," Harry added with surprise as he opened the letter. He began reading.

_Harry_

"He's obviously sucking up for something," Ron said immediately. " He never calls you 'Harry'."

"Ron, if we're going to find out what the letter actually says, you're going to have to..." Hermione made a zipping motion across her mouth. Ron turned red and nodded. Harry cleared his throat, resuming the letter.

_Harry_

_If you have had the tolerance to open this letter, I ask that you treat the entirety of it with the same tolerance. I know that my previous behavior does not command your respect-_

"You got that right," muttered Ron, but Hermione shot him a warning look.

_But I have a great favor to ask of you, so great that I doubt myself as I write. Please read it with an open mind. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has drawn me into a terrible cycle, though I will not recount the exact details-_ Harry felt the slightest twinge of pity, knowing some of the "details" himself_ -but I have managed to escape for now. I am asking that I may join with you and your friends on your quest against He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. I know that at first this seems awkward- on both sides of this letter- but we could offer each other protection. Rest assured that I cannot betray you and join with him, as I have recently found myself incapable. I plan to use the fireplace to discuss this tonight in your common room at midnight, hoping that all the others will have cleared out by that time. If you are not there, I will take it that I am alone in this situation. Again, I plead you to consider the situation with reason._

_**Draco Malfoy**_

The three stared at the letter, then at each other, in utter disbelief.

"Malfoy… join us?" Ron said weakly. "…It's obviously a trick!"

"Ron could be right, Harry, there's no telling what he may have planned for us at midnight," Hermione said, in her signature Hermione-ish tone- though with a bit of hesitation.

"Besides, when has he ever talked to us like that? It sounds like he's simpering off to Snape or something," Ron added, rather more fiercely than called for.

Harry did not answer immediately. Somehow Ron's logic did not add up. The words of the letter had a superficial, façade-like air to them, like they barely scratched the surface of whatever was going on right now, and Harry fully believed Malfoy when he said he had found himself "incapable" of being a Death Eater. Malfoy was not able to murder, and Harry knew it from every moment of the oddly distant-seeming night on the castle ramparts. He had not told Hermione and Ron, but Malfoy was taking up a significant portion of his mind alongside Dumbledore's death, and his newfound goal of finding Horcruxes. What could have been going through the boy's mind as he shook uncontrollably at Dumbledore's offer of protection, as he lowered his wand just a little, before being thrown aside by the other Death Eaters? Malfoy had not had time to chat much about his inner thoughts before Snape dragged him beyond the gates… but his family was in grave danger, and would continue to be if he continued his service to Voldemort. Harry knew that, deep down, and slowly it dawned on Harry why Malfoy might be using the tone that he was…

"Well, maybe he can't think of any other way to get his message across," Hermione said softly, and both Ron and Harry looked up. "Think about it. He's so terrified of what will happen if we don't take him in that he doesn't dare address us as usual. But he's not used to being respectful to us at all, so he doesn't know how to write to us respectfully now. The closest thing he can think of is, like you said, Ron, the tone he sweet-talks Snape with." She had voiced the unorganized thoughts of Harry.

Ron gave her a hard look. "Still sounds to me like he's going to have someone turn the common room into a swamp or something the minute we turn up."

But Harry was a little more thoughtful. "She's got a point, Ron."

"I'm not saying he's not the same little git that he used to be, I don't really care to have his company either," continued Hermione with a bit af a grimace, "but it seems like Dumbledore got him really thinking... Maybe he does need protection. I can't imagine his fate if no one helps him, he's certainly no real Death Eater from what Harry saw that night."

"He's still a git."

"Yes, I said that, but _think_, Ron!" Frustration grew in her voice.

"I am thinking! Thinking of how he almost got Hagrid fired, thinking of how he stomped Harry's nose on the train, thinking of how-"

"Ron, that's _enough_!" Hermione had a look both fierce and desperate. It seemed she was as angry at Ron's stubborness as she was in favor of the letter. Or perhaps she simply wanted to drop the subject before she changed her mind. "Alright, that's it. Harry, I'll be in the common room if you will, so long as I've got my wand with me."

For just a moment, Harry hesitated, thoughts racing, but said, "I'll be there." Both looked at Ron inquiringly, who just stared back in horror for a few moments.

"You two are crazy," he said finally. "But I guess I've got no choice."

Besides Hermione and Ron arguing on and off about the letter, the rest of the day passed in quiet comfort. There were no classes, so most of Harry's time was spent with his friends by the lake. Even Luna Lovegood came up to join in the conversation, sifting through the silt at the lake's shore. Eventually Ron and Harry retired to the Quidditch field, which Madam Hooch had deemed open for flying. Harry and Ron tossed a pinecone back and forth nonchalantly in midair, discussing the morning's events.

"So he's supposedly _joining _us… what's that mean?" Ron wondered aloud for the sixteenth time. "Well, we had decided to go to the Burrow- wait a minute!" Harry dove after the pinecone Ron had just dropped in shock. When he came back, Ron had a look of pure terror on his previously thoughtful face.

"What?"

"You realize what this means, don't you?" Ron said. "_Malfoy will be at the Burrow!_"

"We'll be careful. If you're really worried, I'm sure your dad can see if he's being sneaky-"

"No- I mean- Fred and George- he got them banned last year- they can't- th-they won't-" Ron gave up articulation entirely and stared at the ground fifty feet below. Harry understood, though. Malfoy had insulted the Weasley family in fifth year and the Weasley twins, along with Harry, had gone at him so hard it had almost gotten them a permanent ban from Quidditch. He, too, was now staring at the ground, and shuddered at the thought of what Fred and George would do if they saw Draco Malfoy walking up to them along with Harry and Ron at the train platform.

"We'll have to make sure they don't go anywhere alone… Maybe he should get a flask like Moody," Ron was saying with a blank face. "You know Fred and George have something to put in his glass already hidden in the cupboards, just in case they ever saw him again." Harry knew that nothing good could come of it if the twins got involved in a fight, especially days before the wedding of Ron's brother, Bill.

Just then, a light, female figure came whirling up behind him.

"Hi, Harry," said a misty voice.

"Luna!!" Ron spluttered at her as Harry turned. "I didn't know you could fly!"

"Oh, I've had a bit of practice," Luna said vaguely. "Borrowed a school broom. But Harry- you said you're headed for Godric's Hollow, right?"

"Yeah," Harry said quickly. Luna and Ginny had sat with Ron, Hermione and Harry by the lake as they had recounted the morning's events an hour before.

"Good. I just wanted to tell you that Ginny and I are following you. We can stay in a nearby house, if you like." Harry stared in shock. Luna smiled brightly and made to fly off, but Harry flew up to her and spun her around by the elbow.

"You can't do that, Luna! You know how dangerous it is-" he started to tell her, but Luna cut him off. Floating towards him so that Ron couldn't hear, her misty voice suddenly held a determination that Harry had never heard from her before.

"I knew you'd do that, Harry. But that's exactly why we're coming. Harry- you can't do such a dangerous job alone. You're closing your mind to what you truly need." She was very close to him. "As soon as we heard your story, Ginny and I had a chat and we decided you need an army, not a soldier."

Harry couldn't seem to speak.

"I've talked to Ron. I've talked to Hermione. They decided the same thing a long time ago." She turned her head to look at the castle. "We still need someone here, you know, to keep Dumbledore's Army alive in the place it's needed most. That's why I couldn't tell Neville or the others." Luna looked at him and her voice sounded less misty than ever. "Please don't go back on your promises. We're all in this together."After a moment, she backed off and smiled brightly again. "I'm headed off to try laps. See you, Harry, Bye, Ron."

Harry stared in disbelief for the second time that day. He had never heard Luna so... _determined_. Harry felt extremely irritated that no one would just let him do what he had to- _but that's what she's saying,_ said a nasty voice in his head. _That's what everyone's saying. You're so angry and won't let people help you, not even if you're fighting the greatest Dark wizard in the world._ This disturbed Harry slightly, and he went back to playing catch with the pinecone with so little concentration that he was diving down after it nearly every time Ron threw.

* * *

Draco Malfoy was scared. He did not like to admit it, but it was true and he knew it in the very back of his mind, in a nasty little place where he knew a lot of things that were true. What a crude escape he had made… From the minute Dumbledore died, he had been feeling somewhat… un-Malfoyish… in that he was often rather doubtful of himself. The inability to kill shook him to the foundation in the first place, and as soon as he had been able to think again, his mind flooded with questions and revelations. Why couldn't he kill? Hadn't his father been entirely able… or had he? What kind of a person was Lucius Malfoy, now that he thought of it, and what kind of falsehoods had his son absorbed from him for nearly seventeen years? _What did it _mean _to kill?_

These thoughts tortured Malfoy ever since he'd gone past the Hogwarts gates, but he never had any answers. And now, here he was, barely half a week later, and he was sitting in some vacationing Muggle's house, with the thin protection of fairly new (and imperfect, and weak) charm that protected him from Legilimency and most sorts of magical tracking, and also caused him to retch every time he saw something colored bright purple as a side effect. He had got the charm from attempting to contact the Order of the Phoenix, as they might offer him protection from an angry Voldemort that he realized he could not possibly follow without his family being killed- he could not carry out any of Voldemort's missions, and the price would be the lives of him and his parents. However, the Order was in a state of total disarray, and was distant towards him- the son of Lucius Malfoy, the infamous Death Eater- to boot. They were scattered, unorganized, and had much too much to deal with. They tried somewhat to help, but the best they could do that Draco trusted in the slightest was to cast that charm on a necklace and give it to him to wear for protection. Malfoy didn't mind it, a fine silver chain with a tiny, pearly gray brooch on the end. But he could not entirely trust something that forced him to hide the bright purple stuffed bear one of the Muggle children had left in the living room.

Fortunately, though, that living room also bore a fireplace.

He had thought and thought, and finally, with a great deal of lingering reluctance, decided that his only option was to join someone who was already against Voldemort. Someone who had a chance. Someone like (dare he think it?) Harry Potter.

He had, in fact, put an Amicability Charm on the letter, making it a little more likely for the one who touched it first to agree with it. But for all the help it did him, he might as well have made it a Howler. Draco Malfoy was scared.

* * *

Thankfully, by the time the large clock in the Gryffindor common room showed 12 o' clock, the room was deserted. Except, of course, for the wary faces of Hermione, Harry and Ron, peering from near the dormitory staircases. All three stared at the fire waiting, until- _fwoosh_- the pointed, blond-haired face they all knew so terribly well emerged from the shapes in the flames, as Harry had seen Sirius do before. Malfoy looked haughty as usual, but there was something else there, as if he was having to work a little to keep the look on. A frown creased his forehead as he scanned the room, looking for anyone until, finally, Harry took a deep breath and stepped out. Malfoy looked deeply relieved. He quickly pulled his face back, though, as Hermione strode into the room and sank into an armchair. Ron came in a moment later, though he walked stiffly and remained standing behind Hermione's chair. Malfoy exhaled slowly and looked at Harry.

"So," Harry said with the same exhalation, "what exactly are we discussing?"

It was clear to the three in the common room that Malfoy was being as true as Malfoys got. And though they could practically smell his reluctance, he accepted some of their plans and submitted to measures that made sure he wouldn't try anything stupid. It was settled that he and Luna would meet up (at this he looked slightly irritated) off of the Hogwarts train, at Platform 9 ¾, then join up with the rest of the Weasleys… Luna was to walk ahead of Malfoy to ease the tension, he wouldn't be barging in… Every tiny detail was worked out and Hermione, always organized, wrote it all down for Luna. Malfoy tried unsuccessfully to hide his habitual sneer at this trademark of Hermione's, but luckily their discussion had all but ended at that point, and he slipped away unceremoniously before Ron and Harry could get on him for it.

"That was oddly quiet," Ron remarked after a moment. Harry looked at him inquiringly, and he continued. "When have we ever had an hour "-he glanced at the clock, which now read 1:03- "talking to _Draco Malfoy_, where we haven't yelled at each other- and didn't look like Crabbe or Goyle?"

"Well, when have we talked to him for an hour, period?" Hermione reminded them from the table. "These are some odd circumstances, Ron, and I imagine there will be weirder things to come." Her quill continued scratching on the paper. Ron acknowledged defeat by yawning and headed up to bed , waving good night. Harry decided he'd better follow if he wanted to be able to walk onto the Hogwarts Express tomorrow- and sure enough, Harry heard just a few more frantic scratches before Hermione's footsteps echoed up to the girl's dormitory. A full night's sleep was now in order.

He dozed off quickly, and had an odd dream. Fred and George were chasing a ferret until it crashed headlong into a rickety statue of white bricks.

* * *

**A/N** Do you like it? Prithee review! Hey, and pitfit (praise in truth, flame in truth: means I want TOTAL HONESTY puh-leaze!)

I originally had this in a Microsoft Works document and had a lot of fun finding a good font to put Malfoy's letter in. I think the body was Viner Hand ITC and the signature was Blackadder ITC. Then, of course, I post it here and I'm forced to use italics and boldface. Boring!  
Adios, readers!

tiger-SAMBA signing off


	2. Meet the Weasleys!

Disclaimer: Hp is not the owned item of the person who does not own Harry Potter. Said person is me. (I don't own HP)

A/N Hey there! I feel so very loved because I have 46 hits to this story... and yet I feel shunned because ONLY ONE PERSON reviewed me! (grumble grumble) Ah, well. I didn't wait very long anyway. Thanks with tons of mangoes to **murdrax,** my reviewer.

They meet the Weasleys here! (If you couldn't already tell by the chapter title...) Anyway... TADAA!

* * *

The cabin of the Hogwarts Express which held the entire army headed for Godric's Hollow, save for Neville instead of Malfoy, was oddly quiet. Even if someone could have escaped from thoughtful reverie, they couldn't say much in front of Neville- everyone had agreed to keep the plan as secretive as possible. Neville had valiantly tried to break the silence ("So, what are you doing this summer?") but no one answered him. 

Finally, _finally_, the train was slowing to a halt, and now they were in the aisle. What a long ride it had been. Everyone in the "army" had butterflies in their stomach and was desperately searching to see Luna, though they knew that the sight of her would only wrench their stomachs more. Everyone's mouth was also thin, hoping Malfoy would not dare to act like usual.

Harry heard Ron inhale sharply ahead of him and realized they were about to step off of the train.

"Well, here goes," said Hermione, trooping ahead. At least Ron had remembered to send an owl to his family the day before at dinner, saying that they had one and possibly two extra guests tagging with them, but Harry just hoped the owl had arrived and was taken in stride. Somehow the ferret-chasing dream did not bode well.

"Oh, my dears!" Mrs. Weasley was squealing. She scooped each one into a hug in turn, saying something to each that commented on how skinny they were getting to be. "Oh, I'm so glad to see everyone again… Now Ron, you told me there were two more guests? Friends of yours?" Harry gulped at this, looking at the figures of Fred and George looming behind Mrs. Weasley.

"Th-they should be here any s-second," Ron stammered. At this point everyone had momentarily forgotten their own apprehension of Malfoy as all thoughts were focused on how the family would react to his presence. Luna was similarly forgotten. But suddenly, Harry, Ron, Hermione and Ginny were all turning their heads, hearts hammering in unison in their chest. It had been uncomfortable to be so nervous for hours on end on the train, but the culmination of the anxiety was like the entire train ride squashed into a few moments. Luna approached, and behind her- Draco Malfoy.

"Hello, there, you must be Ron's family?" Luna said dreamily, as Mrs. Weasley rushed to shake her hand. "I'm Luna Lovegood, I believe Ron told you I was coming-"

But Fred and George both had their eyes narrowed on the silent, pale figure behind her.

"Careful, Luna, there's a rat behind you," said George ominously.

Luna swiveled around as if expecting to see a rodent, remembered Malfoy, and smiled as she began to introduce him. Harry, however, saw imminent danger in the three sets of now-flaring nostrils- Malfoy was looking soundlessly but angrily up at them.

"Luna, no need,' he said hurriedly, and she stopped and looked at him curiously. He turned to the dangerously volatile twins. "Guys- please- listen, he's with us because-"

"YOU BROUGHT HIM?!?" Fred roared, past breaking point. "HE"S THE SECOND GUEST?!?" He turned to Ron. "I thought you were my brother! I thought you cared about my sanity!"

"Fred- George- please-" Hermione whimpered.

"Why don't you just bring the whole lot, then? A whole family of Death Eaters should round off the house!" George bellowed, and that began a fight. Everyone excluding Malfoy, who amazingly had the sense to step back, had soon started kicking and screaming at one another, either begging them to be quiet or telling them exactly where they could seat their second guest-

_"__SILENCIO!__"_ bellowed a voice that everyone had temporarily forgotten. Suddenly everyone's shouts stuck in their throats, and Mrs. Weasley stepped forward and pulled the brawlers apart. She was livid.

"NOW. When I release you, there is to be NO screaming off of heads! I want to hear exactly what is going on- and I want to hear Harry's version first," she added with authority. Waving her wand, she released the seven larynxes, and everyone grumbled but did not resume the fight. Harry took a deep breath before starting.

"Malfoy, he's… he sent us a letter, and all of us have decided that we're going to give it a try…well…" Still breathless from the residue of anxiety, Harry gave up articulation for a moment and dug through his robes. "Maybe it would be easier if you read this." He held out the letter he had saved, along with Hermione's "planning sheet".

Mrs. Weasleys' lips moved soundlessly over each page, frowning here, raising her eyebrows there. Fred and George tried to lean stealthily over her shoulders to read the parchment too, but she sensed them and glared. The twins backed off.

"I see…" she said slowly, looking at Malfoy, who stared at the ground. Harry looked at him in utter shock- Malfoy was not one to be shamed into silence. Mrs. Weasley turned back to Harry and gestured at Malfoy. "You do realize that I have heard quite a bit about this family, from both the _Daily __Prophet_ and my sons?" Harry nodded numbly. What had he done?

"And you do realize that Ron has told me the entire version of the story from your viewpoint," she added with a sigh, "that I hardly believe most of the Prophet; that my twins, truthful as they can be, often exaggerate; and that, secure though our house must be, we will take him?"

Harry looked up so quickly that he almost broke his neck. He was not quite sure whether to be happy or not and so the expression on his face remained blankly surprised. But he knew that this was good, the family was going to take Malfoy, he would not be left to be killed by Voldemort. It was six years of fierce animosity, not ungrounded, that dampened him, as well as the nagging and highly uncomfortable thought that Malfoy was still a hard-core Death Eater and that Harry had completely misthought the psychology behind it all. He had remembered on the train the source of his doubt: the epic trick he had fallen for last year that ended in the death of his godfather… It did not help that Fred and George now looked distinctly like provoked wolves and that the one thing holding them back was their ferocious peacemaker of a mother. In unease, he followed her.

-----------

"Hello, Arthur!"

Mrs. Weasley's voice rang cheerfully through the house when they reached the Burrow that evening.

"Why, hello, my children!" called Mr. Weasley, coming around the corner. "Harry, so wonderful to see you again… oh, Ron, Ginny…" He hugged each of the ones he'd seen before in turn- though his wife received an especially loud one-as Harry saw Malfoy fidgeting uncomfortably from the corner of his eye, and Luna taking in the new location. Then his eyes fell upon the new guests.

"Ah, Ron wrote that you might be coming, I'm Arthur Weasley. And you-?" he said jovially.

"Luna Lovegood, pleased to meet you," Luna replied with a smile. Mr. Weasley shook her hand and gave her a one-armed hug, remarking that Ron had told him about her once and then looking expectantly at Malfoy. He now looked extremely uncomfortable, but licked his lips and spoke.

"I'm Draco," he said, keeping his hands by his side until Mr. Weasley extended his own. He shook it stiffly. Harry realized with a start that these were Malfoy's first words since he met up with them.

"Yes, I may have heard of you as well," commented Mr. Weasley vaguely. "How are you both? Staying long?"

"Just until after the wedding," Harry said hastily. He would rather not be catechized by Mrs. Weasley about dropping from Hogwarts, and did not tell her that he planned on aligning their departure with his, Ron and Hermione's.

"Speaking of which!" sang out Mrs. Weasley suddenly, clapping her hands together. "As it is so late now, we'll let you rest, but tomorrow there will be no time for chat! We must get started on those wedding plans! Oh- do our guests know about the wedding?" She beamed at Luna and Malfoy, but didn't let them answer. "Ron's brother is getting married! At our house!" Her smile faded a little. "And this house is not used to it, so there's much to be done." On that note, she bustled off.

"We'll help take up the bags, Mum," said George quietly as she turned the corner, careful to time it just as she began talking to her husband, so she didn't hear. All of the bags immediately zoomed up the staircase easily- except for Malfoy's, which banged rather hard into the wall and fell back down the staircase.

"Sorry, mate, must've done the spell wrong," Fred muttered to him, smirking. He proceeded to levitate it rather shakily back up. Malfoy's hands clenched, but he did not dare to make a scene near such a teacher-like figure as Mrs. Weasley.

The twins came up with the six students to arrange sleeping quarters.

"We sleep at the shop- business is booming- so the boys can sleep in our room," said George briskly.

"And right next to it is Bill's old room, so the girls can bunk there," Fred finished. "We'll leave you to what I'm sure are going to be some long, pleasant conversations." He smiled with a sort of evil brightness and left.

As they pulled their suitcases to the rooms, Ron muttered in Harry's ear. "I would've slept in my room, but none of us are going to force you to be alone with _him_."

Almost as soon as they dropped onto the beds- Ron insisted on sleeping on the folding cot- Hermione, Luna and Ginny came in. Malfoy rolled his eyes and propped himself up.

"Can't you ever knock?" Ron demanded.

Hermione ignored him. "I think we ought to make a condition involving Harry and Draco- all of us, really," she said briskly. As soon as Hermione called Malfoy by name, Harry sat up, slightly off guard, and also curious as to what Hermione could be suggesting. There was so much animosity between Malfoy and everyone else- how could one select just one condition to set?

"I think we should all get in the habit of calling each other by our first names."

There was an awkward pause.

"…Sorry, Hermione," Ron said skeptically, "but how is that going to help?" Harry nodded in agreement, as did Malfoy.

"Well, because if we do that- well, it might set the mood for us to be a little closer, wouldn't it?," Hermione stammered, a little less certain. "I mean, if I always called Harry 'Potter', it'd be awfully odd- wouldn't it- because we're such good friends. Maybe we'll feel a little closer, you know…?" She trailed off looking at Ron.

"I doubt it," he said, still looking skeptical, but then he went on. "What do you think,"- he swallowed and turned to the bed- "Draco?"

Hermione beamed. Draco's eyes widened, then narrowed, but he nodded and looked away.

"Good!" Luna exclaimed jovially. She sat down and stretched, and the others followed suit. "Anyway.. .Draco, what's wrong with you? You've barely said a thing all day, Wrackspurt got you?"

Draco was rather surprised at being addressed like this (as were most of the others in the room) and turned, frowning. He certainly did not know Luna quite as much as Pott- Harry, Ron and Hermione (oh, how strange it felt to even think their names!) but he had certainly given her a fair share of teasing, especially when she supported Gryffindor in the Quidditch matches. And her reputation as "Loony" Lovegood had spread especially quickly to his crowd. So why was he being addressed so calmly, as if he were an old acquaintance?

Only when Luna shrugged and made to turn did he realize that he'd been staring at her for much longer than he thought during his reverie.

"Er- no, I'm perfectly fine," he spat haughtily. "There are certainly no such things as Wrackspurts." Luna turned back slowly to stare at him. Draco, still shaken though he was, was not intimidated, being quite certain that invisible gray moths which fed on concentration were nonexistent anywhere but within Luna Lovegood's extremely confusing mind.

"Everything a Slytherin should be," she murmured after a moment. Draco blinked. Being used to the usual Harry-Ron-Hermione trio's snappy comebacks and occasional physical harm, he had not expected to be…well, complimented, in a weak sort of way.

"You're ambitious and focused, but your focus closes your mind. You can do many things, but you will never be able to learn as much," she said to him serenely. "_Wit __beyond __measure__-_"

"Alright, I get it!" Draco cut in before Luna could sing, but his mind suddenly swerved to something Luna had revealed earlier in the sentence. He could do many things? Luna's dialogue surprised him, but then he scoffed at it. "Wait. Are you, a Ravenclaw, really telling me, a Slytherin, that I can be great? To my face?" He put on a trademark smirk. "I mean, I know the fact is obvious to any Hogwarts student, but really…"

"Yes, I am," replied Luna calmly, causing him to blink again and the smirk to vanish. "Although you don't always put it to good use, you may be the most Slytherinish Slytherin I know, you're very ambitious." She yawned, as if informing Draco of his strengths and flaws was part of her daily routine. "And you go to great lengths to achieve your ambitions. If you use that, it can make for either a very dark or a very great wizard."

This time, Draco didn't blink. He sat staring at Luna, marveling at this revelation. Never had someone told him something like that, at least not sincerely- and yet it was true. He was extremely ambitious, and was willing to go to very great lengths to achieve his ambition. And he had almost always been subconsciously driving himself to be a "very dark" wizard.

He would have told her that she must have been the most Ravenclawish Ravenclaw he knew for figuring this out, had it not been for his entirely opposed personality and ego, his tumultuous thoughts, and the fact that he did not know many Ravenclaws. Instead he stammered, "H-how do you know that?"

"Don't think Harry hasn't told me about your various escapades," Luna replied mistily. She put on a slight smile. Draco did not quite know what to think, his mind having just been so mercilessly barraged, and continued gaping at her for a full thirty seconds, before Hermione piped back up.

"Er- so, how are we going to get to Godric's Hollow, anyway?" she said awkwardly. Harry knew how she felt. No one had bothered to join in the recent conversation because they were just as engrossed with the wild, but scarily accurate, description of Draco as the man in question himself. Ginny came to her true senses, though, and spoke over Hermione.

"Look, Hermione, we're all exhausted, why don't we just try to have some"- she swallowed and stole a brief glance at Draco- "light conversation, and worry later?" Everyone heard the pleading in her voice. Ginny was apparently not keen to hurry on to the constant-stressing stage this soon in the game, and Harry thought her wise for it.

"Right," said Ron, and for a moment he searched furiously for something to say. A look of hesitance plodded across his face before he turned.

"How did you get here, Malf- er, Draco?"

Again, Draco whipped around, but he was not as surprised this time to be addressed in such a semi-friendly way. It was like a Waking Charm going off- you would get into a nice, deep sleep, and all of a sudden you would be jerked back with the most terrible noise, and it took a moment to remember that it was only an alarm. In response to this particular alarm his hand instantly flew to the chain he was hiding somewhat beneath his shirt and subconsciously caressed it as he told them- or, tried to.

"I was- I was staying in a …house," he stammered awkwardly, not wanting to admit that he had holed up in a Muggle house. Ron snorted.

"Brilliant of you, Malfoy. A _house_."

"Ron, you've forgotten."

"Sorry, Hermione- that was brilliant of _Draco_. No one but _Draco _could've thought of a _house._"

"Ron! You're impossible!"

"I would stop if I were you, Ron. You too, Hermione. You're only setting a mood that will come back to haunt you," Luna suddenly said, pointedly. Hermione glanced at her for a moment or two, then backed off of Ron. He looked miffed. However, he did stop scowling at Hermione, if only because Luna had ruined the moment for it.

"What's that flashy thing you've got there, Draco?" asked Ginny to get off the subject. She gestured to the necklace that Draco's hand was still on, and smirked. "Accent piece?"

"It's nothing that concerns you!" snapped Draco, as his hand flew back to the bed. Ginny raised an eyebrow and glanced at Hermione, who gazed meaningfully back. Draco noticed this.

"Well- it's not Dark Magic, if that's what you're thinking," he huffed indignantly.

"Sure, Draco."

"That little tone is going to get very annoying, Gina."

"So are you, Drexley. By the way, my name's Ginny."

Draco huffed again.

It just wasn't worth even fighting right now, he thought, especially against that little redhead, whatever her name happened to be. He yawned, as if to prove this point to himself.

"Hey, don't give up now! I do love wordplay," Luna interjected.

"He's not worth it, Luna," Ginny said softly. "Besides, I think we're all ready for bed."

"Well, I suppose…"

And with that, all three girls trooped out of the twins' room.

* * *

A/N Oohh... I smell an interesting wedding... then again, I have a special author's sense of smell, bestowed upon me when I first wrote. Heh... R+R, pitfit! (be honest!) 

Today's Special: Author Advertisement

**Farfalle Rossa is an amazing author!** She gets very few reviews! Her stories are like poetic water! So read her!

End Special

tiger-SAMBA signing off


	3. TigerSamba and her Slytherin Ambition

**!!!!Edit for Current Readers: Kindly disregard this note, which put BK on holiday for a while. It is no longer in effect. However, there was another note, which I have deleted, that said I would be updating this story only at my leisure: that is still in effect.**

**If you would ever like to see if Bluntknife is on holiday, check back here. Bluntknife is currently:**

**Not on holiday, though my busy schedule will not help in getting it to come faster than last chapter… just know I'm working on it. –October 26**

Disclaimer: Well, can't really say much as I do, in fact, own myself. I know, shocker- most people think I'm possessed.

**Tiger-Samba and her Stupid Slytherin Ambition**

Today's Special: Brainteaser

Which three boy's names are anagrams of one another?

Answer next time on...

THE TIGER-SAMBA SHOW!!! (smattered applause)

end special

tiger-SAMBA signing off


	4. Chicken Stresses and Tight Dresses

**Disclaimer: If I owned HP this would be canon and you wouldn't have bought it. Therefore, if you have a Harry Potter book, I do not own this.**

**a/n** I have one person to thank for this chapter and that person is Janneason. Without his review I may never have looked back on this story and realized what great things I have in store for y'all.... yes, interesting things... This doesn't mean I'll be updating regularly, but I'm back with this story, I think.

This chapter will be good. Know how I know? Because it has the phrase "twenty-three irascible chickens" in it. Can't argue with that. Now, enjoy!

* * *

The next day, a bustling Mrs. Weasley woke everyone, clapping her hands and yelling, "Time for preparations! Get off those beds, we need to work!"

Harry groaned and flopped out of bed. Drowsily, he stumbled over to his pile of clothes and began rummaging through them until he found a sufficiently old shirt for working, and turned to see that Ron was starting to stand up.

Wait. Ron had flame-red hair, not ice-blond.

_Ohhh…_

Harry could have smacked himself for forgetting Malfoy. And he could have smacked himself again for forgetting Hermione's first-name rule. Fortunately, he did not get a chance, as Mrs. Weasley slammed the door open again, yelled something incoherent but harsh, and swung the door back shut.

Breakfast was somewhat hurried, though delicious as usual. It was made publicly known that the Delacours would be arriving today, before everyone was split up into their various chores, and the chaos of that day began.

So it was that Harry was sent to the study to de-doxy curtains. So it was, too, that he swept the swept the kitchen, cleaned the dishes and, possibly the hardest task of all, kept a shaky peace between Draco and everyone else. After a few hours, he was set to the task of cleaning the chicken coop with Ron.

The chickens were not cooperating.

Perhaps it was his novice skills at coop-cleaning, or perhaps it was the presence of a stranger - Harry did not often go to the chicken coop. Or perhaps the chickens were just irritable like the rest of the family at the time. But in any case, he constantly had to avoid tripping over one or getting a faceful of feathers.

"Here," said Ron hastily. "I can do the rest, Mum would probably let you go de-gnome or something-"

"No, I won't-ffflehf! - make you do this alone-" Harry called through feathers.

"Truly, Harry, let me do something for you-"

"I can handle them- AGH!" It was then that Harry noticed that his dancing around the chickens looked distinctly like a Mambo Promenade Twist. He decided to yield and clean the outside of the coop.

* * *

Draco was having a similar experience, but it was not because of irritable chickens. It was because he had no experience at all... among many other things. A tired, stressed and oblivious Mrs. Weasley had assigned Draco to cleaning the yard- with Fred and George.

"Oi, Fred, go cut those weeds. You're getting in the way of a master bush-pruner."

"I only see one weed, George, but those plants are in the way."

"What kind of a weed d'ya think that is?"

"The distinctively large head held up by a disproportionately scrawny stalk… reminds me of one I've seen before, but it was really hard to pull up."

"I've heard of a weed like that. Try turning it into a ferret."

"No, I couldn't be a ferret," growled Draco, as Fred and George laughed, "because it would be impossible for _me_ to be related to _you_, Weasel."

"Ohoho! Ferret's got sharp little teeth!"

This continued for a while. Draco retorted fiercely, but his comebacks were often given a good, hard slap by the double wit of Fred and George. In the middle of one yelling session, Mr. Weasley stepped out.

"Now, Fred, George, why aren't those weeds picked?… Draco?"

Draco turned, nostrils flaring.

"What are you doing with these two scoundrels? Go help Luna degnome the garden! Poor girl's got the whole yard to do on her own!"

Not entirely happy with the second choice, Draco nevertheless turned from the twins and wandered off sulkily to find Luna.

He stepped into the yard and froze: a light-colored thing of some sort was spinning round and round at superhuman speeds, blurred too greatly to see detail. A small dark thing was attached to one of its extremities. As Draco looked on in utter confusion, the small dark thing was ejected from the blurred figure across a garden wall and, with a fading screech, flew into oblivion in the field beyond.

As Draco stepped back a bit, the light-colored creature's inertia slowly dissipated and it revealed itself to be Luna.

"You got here at the right time, Draco," Luna said, fatigue apparent in her voice. "I was starting to get tired."

"...What in the name of toil and trouble was that?"

"Oh!" Luna suddenly understood his confusion. "I suppose you might not know... Why, that was de-gnoming!"

Draco raised an eyebrow.

"It's great fun, for a while at least- here, I'll show you." She dove into the bushes and came up a second later with a writhing, ugly, humanoid sort of creature, hanging upside down from her fingers.

She adjusted her grip so that she had a leg in each hand, then started to spin. And spin. And spin and spin and spin, her light summery dress billowing and rippling around her legs until- suddenly- she let go, and the ugly little gnome soared over the garden wall.

"Would you care to try?" she panted.

"Er-"Draco started, but Luna had already found a gnome and thrust it into his hands. He let it dangle awkwardly from his finger and thumb.

"Go ahead."

"I'm going to, you impatient loon," Draco snapped. He took it gingerly in two hands and started to spin. And spin. And spin and spin and spin, his light, not-so-summery pants getting caught on a thorn- and they tripped him, sending the gnome soaring high above the house on the _opposite_ side of the garden wall.

"... That will take a bit of practice," said Luna. Draco opened his mouth for a snappy reply, but as he was lying on the ground in the sawgrass, it was rather difficult. Luna had already taken off to see where the gnome had gone, so Draco got up and followed her.

He saw her stopped at the corner of the house, staring out towards the chicken coop where Harry and Ron were working.

"Shhh!" she whispered when he got close. She pointed. "See there, by that tree? It's hiding."

"Why don't you just let it go?"

"Because then it would get back into the garden and you'd have to throw it again!"

Draco started to argue but Luna shushed him again. Then she started to sneak up on the gnome, step by step.

The gnome was relatively far from where they were standing, and Draco got impatient. Luna was going about it all the wrong way, as always. And he got cocky. Suddenly, convinced that he could easily outrun a gnome and get the job done much faster, he burst into speed and ran towards the crouching figure of the gnome.

Luna looked up in surprise as he flew past her, but he hardly noticed, and he came upon the gnome. It saw him and ran instantly.

It was not previously known to Draco the velocity at which a gnome could run. But he now realized that it was greater than his own. Or at least, it was when shin-deep sawgrass was involved. Fleeing, the gnome barely seemed to notice, but it slowed Draco considerably.

_Well, I have to finish this somehow, _thought Draco as he flew. He looked up and saw the chicken coop approaching, and an idea popped into his head. _If I can trap it, it won't be able to run..._

So Draco swerved around the gnome with his Quidditch skills and maneuvered the little thing into the chicken coop. Blissfully ignorant of what lay waiting for him, he ran in after it.

Harry, who had been standing on a ladder repainting the eaves of the coop white, saw all this, but he could do nothing to stop it. Even if he could, he might have let it happen anyway.

For as soon as the running Draco set foot in the coop, there was a deafening noise as twenty-three irascible chickens flew at the intruder and barraged him in an explosion of feathers, beaks, and other unidentifiable substances, clawing and pecking, and the roosters crowing mercilessly from the other side of the coop. Wherever that was. Draco had fallen to the floor of the coop, having tripped over one of the malignant fowl, and was completely disoriented. Through the feathers he could barely see one pair of shoes- Ron's- and... one pair of dirty, bare feet. The gnome! He couldn't come out of this without at least getting the gnome; that would be foolish! In one wild movement, he shot out and grabbed the feet.

The creature attached to the feet fell to the floor with a heavy thump and a bellow. It occurred hazily to Draco that gnomes did not bellow, nor were they heavy, but he was too concerned with escaping the mad chickens to care. Fleeing the coop, he dragged his prize out and ran blindly through the sawgrass and the eight chickens who had escaped with him- straight into Harry Potter.

Ladder and white paint went everywhere, throwing Harry and Draco to the ground and speckling white paint over their faces, the coop, and the irate chickens, making them even more insane as they fluttered madly above the boys. They lay there, the three of them, limply below.

Three?

Ron Weasley groaned and lifted himself off the ground. He looked down irritably at his bare feet, which Draco was still holding, and yanked them away fiercely.

"What..." he shouted, "in the name of Merlin was that?!"

"I- you-" Draco tried to spit something out but couldn't. "Why weren't you wearing shoes!?"

"I never wear shoes when I clean the coop! I work better without them!" Ron glared at Draco as Harry lifted himself up too. "Why did you drag me out by the feet!?"

"I- I thought you were- Where did the gnome go?" Draco finally sputtered.

Suddenly someone burst into laughter beside them.

Draco, Harry and Ron looked over to see Luna, giggling wildly, collapsed to her knees in the grass. "We- we were de-gnoming... the garden..." she managed to say, then fell into peals of laughter again.

Slowly Harry understood, and a smirk grew on his face. It widened into a smile, and soon he was laughing with Luna at the ridiculousness of it all. Ron, who had been scowling, also found his expression softening. He tried valiantly to hold back his smile, but it came anyway. Soon all three were laughing uncontrollably, rolling in the paint and feathers.

Surrounded by mirth, Draco found a smirk creep onto his face. His loss of face faded momentarily from his mind, and he heard a snicker come from his own throat- not the kind that's directed at someone, but a genuine chuckle. Something in him wished it would last longer, and be more than superficial. But by that time the laughter was dying down, and reason came back to the foreforont of his mind. He had lost all his dignity, after all...

"Harry! Ron! Luna! Malf- Draco!" called a voice, running towards them. "The Delacours are-" Ginny stopped at the pile of insanity and looked round. "What in the name..."

"Don't ask, Ginny," Ron said. "What do you want?"

Ginny stuck out her tongue. "Polite as always. But whatever you guys were doing, stop, because the Delacours are coming up the drive and Mum wants us all to meet them!" She ran off around the house, and called over her shoulder, "_Quick!_"

Ron jumped up first, covered so in paint and feathers so that he looked tarred-and-feathered, and in dirty, bare feet, and ran off too. The three others followed suit, trying to pick feathers off as they went.

Ginny was on the long, dusty drive, waving her arm at the approaching Delacours. Fred, George and Hermione were on the other side. Ron, Harry and Luna came up, and Draco, busy trying to pick a feather from his forehead, brought up the rear. As such, he was just jogging up to meet them when he heard Luna say:

"Ohhhh, look at that beautiful purple dress Fleur's wearing!"

It was a reflex. He didn't think. For the second time that day Draco literally ran into his own doom, for as he jogged up next to Luna, he turned to look at Fleur and her dress.

And it was indeed purple.

In fact, it was the same color of bright purple as the Muggle child's teddy bear in the house he had stayed at. The one he had to hide before the necklace charm caused him to vomit out his intestines. And once again, he felt a jolt in the tiny gray brooch that lay on his chest, one that zapped through his heart and into his stomach, electrifying it. He retched violently, doubled over with the charm's effect.

But he would have been alright, eventually, if Fleur had not stopped, concerned, right in front of him. Now not only was he looking directly at the terrible purple dress, but something else made his heart go spinning into a frenzy as he barely managed to look up... what _was_ it...

Oh Merlin. She was part veela.

_Well, at least now she'll have to change,_ he thought as he ran behind the house moments later.

---

Draco had plastered himself to the wall of the back porch, determined to stay out of sight. How could he have laughed, even the slightest bit, when they were all at the chicken coop? All his dignity had gone completely down the drain; his aloofness ruined. He realized now that there was nothing funny about the situation as he imagined how much more face he had just lost- in front of Fleur, too...

Why did he care about Fleur?!... Oh yes, the whole veela thing. Draco sank to the ground as his mouth went completely dry thinking about her. Besides the part where it made him retch, the dress actually was quite pretty... thin like Luna's summery slip-thing, but much more tight-fitting....

Merlin, this day had to end soon!

Just then Ginny popped her head out the back door. "Draco, come inside," she said. "Lunch is ready."

* * *

**a/n **Well, that was a fun chapter! Irascible chickens are always fun! Actually, writing that scene made me think of the Zelda games, where the chickens actually take their revenge if you attack them too much... In those games, it is quite possible to die by chicken.

Oh, yes, and I have decided that "what in the name of toil and trouble" is a wizard swear. Similar to "bloody hell", "Voldemort's nipple", or "Your mother is a*beep**beep**beep*lorem ipsum*beep beep*agnem venium*beep beep﻿* dracula *beep beep*hippopotamus*beep beep*republican*beep beep* and daniel radcliffe*beep beep beep*with a bucket of *beep beep beep* in a castle far away where no one can hear you *beep beep* soup *beep beep* with a bucket of *beep beep beep* mickey mouse *beep beep* with a stick of dynamite *beep beep beep* magical *beep beep* alakazam".  
If you didn't get that I suggest you brush up on your Potter Puppet Pals. Better yet, don't. You'll save yourself.

Answer to last special: Ronald, Arnold, Roland

Today's Special: Brain Teaser  
What word or phrase is represented by this: am** U **ous  
End Special

tiger-SAMBA signing off


	5. Calm Before the Tornado

Disclaimer: Esto no es mio.

Okay! Two news briefs and then we'll get on with the story.  
News Brief One: The first chapter of this story has been edited. Most changes were minor but you might want to look back at the part where Luna flies up and says she and Ginny are joining. I TOTALLY redid that part because it was so terribly weird and OOC. I have also edited the two notes in the story that I did while BK was on holiday; if you ever want to see if it's on holiday again, look at chapter 3.

News Brief Two: I told someone in a PM that this chapta would hopefully be done by Jan. 6... LOL UNDERESTIMATION!!!! Well, I have a couple of reasons: First, winter holiday ended and I had to work again (last week was especially challenging). ALSO (and this affects y'all): I had originally intended to put a plot twist at the end of this chapter. Being me, I started writing the exciting plot twist before I wrote the rest of the first part- and the plot twist got WAY TOO LONG and I had to put it in the next chapter. This means:  
1- This chapter is a little starved for action. Sorry :(  
2- This chapter was put up way late because I spent so much time writing the plot twist part. Again, sorry :(  
3- Next chapter is almost done already and is ENTIRELY PLOT TWIST!!!! Woo! :)

And now.... for the chapter!

* * *

As soon as Draco stepped in the house with Ginny, he noticed that he, Luna, Harry, and Ron were being quarantined in the breakfast nook by a red-faced Mrs. Weasley, while Fred, George, Hermione, and Mr. Weasley distracted the Delacours near the front door. From what he could observe, Fleur was complaining rather a lot about her dress and pointing upstairs in a demanding way. He tried not to look at her.

"...in the world you could possibly have been doing to get into such a state! And with company coming too!" Mrs. Weasley was saying fiercely. Then she saw Draco.

"You, too? And what were _you_ doing?" Mrs. Weasley strode over to him and plucked away the feather still stuck to his forehead, drawing a yelp of pain from the blond.

She sighed, then threw her arms up in a gesture of defeat and looked at Harry. "Is it worth asking anymore, dear?"

Harry tried very hard to hide a smile. He was unsuccessful. "No, Mrs. Weasley," he said, "I think it's better you don't know." Ginny snickered and he grinned at her.

Draco curled his lip and gazed fiercely at a flowerpot on the table.

Mrs. Weasley sighed again. "Well, there's nothing we can do now," she said wearily. "As soon as Fleur changes, we'll be eating lunch, and then it's back to work- but you four "- she pointedly addressed Luna, Harry, Ron and Draco- "will be working _outside_, and when the day is done it's into the shower with you." With that she went into the living room and squealed over Gabrielle Delacour's dress and was smothered in hugs.

Everyone in the breakfast nook seemed to exhale at the same time.

"You know, sometimes I think that I don't want to have a fancy marriage like this," Luna remarked suddenly, as Hermione walked in to join her friends. "It often brings out the worst in people."

Ron looked at her. "What would you do, then, elope?"

"Maybe," Luna murmured. "But there's also an ancient law in the Ministry that says handfasting is still considered a legal ceremony."

"Hand-whatting?" Ron echoed, but Hermione looked up.

"Isn't that from Elizabethan times?" she said. "But even they still had to have a judge- surely-"

"That's how it was for the Muggles. The Ministry changed it later," Luna told her. "People who do it in an emergency are still married, but they can't get annulments or child support unless they have a judge. That's what I want to do."

Hermione mulled over this new bit of knowledge, but Ron was still stuck at the first point.

"Hand-_whatting_?" he repeated.

"Isn't that where you clasp hands and say you love the other person or something?" Ginny put in.

"Anything you like, so long as you say you're their spouse," said Luna. She smiled. "Sometimes the best laws in the Ministry are the ones no one's bothered to change."

"Heh," said Draco without meaning to. With Lucius in the Ministry he had learned about a few of these laws; nobody ever took them seriously. It was funny, actually-

But Fleur and the rest of the Delacours bustled into the room then and all the feathery teenagers found themselves pulled into an explosion of hugs, hand-shaking, and rapid French. Lunch was served.

-------

For the Burrow, the next few days passed rather uneventfully. For the rest of that day Luna kept de-gnoming, but Harry was now her assigned partner: Draco had been relegated to cleaning the front porch. The rest of the house, including the Delacours, went about various jobs each morning, and Hermione eventually found herself alone in the kitchen with Fleur.

"Zeez napkins will never be done," sighed Fleur as she waved her wand over napkins to fold them. She had said the same thing about the potatoes, the wedding favors, and the floor.

Hermione said nothing. She had learned over time to ignore it.

Fleur noticed this time, though, and eyed her. "Is something wrong, Hermione?"

Hermione shook her head and Fleur turned back to her work.

"I see you 'ave some guests with you," she said after a moment.

Hermione continued to fold napkins, but her gaze grew still.

"Ze girl... she says 'er name iz Luna?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, that's a good friend of ours."

"But ze boy I do not know."

Hermione let out a sigh even bigger than Fleur's. "That would be Draco."

Fleur's nose twitched disdainfully. "Something iz wrong with 'im. 'E ruined my dress and 'e would not speak to anyone."

"Believe me, Fleur, I know something's wrong with him," Hermione said grimly. "...But I think there are more things wrong now than ever."

"So you think 'e 'as ze flu as well?"

"What?" Hermione looked up suddenly. "Oh- no, I didn't mean he had- that he was sick-" She almost laughed, but didn't quite get there. "I meant... well, I meant that he's an arrogant snit"- she started to fold the napkins a little faster- "and that he's a coward at the same time"-her wand cut the air fiercely- "and he thinks that violence and bigotry should be put on a pedestal, but now it's a pit, and he's falling very quickly, and he's trying to save himself, but he still hasn't changed..." One of the napkins she was enchanting crumpled into a ball and turned to stone. She stabbed it with her wand, and it exploded in a small puff of dust.

Fleur had stopped her folding in mid-wave and was staring at Hermione, napkin suspended in the air.

"What?" snapped Hermione.

She shook her head suddenly. "Well, I see we hold 'im in a similar regard."

For a few moments it was quiet.

"But _has _he changed?" Hermione murmured soberly. "That's what nobody knows. That's what we all want to find out."

"What who wants to find out?" Fleur said absently.

"Harry, and Ron, and I... probably everyone who's had to deal with him, I suppose."

"I didn't wonder at all."

Hermione looked irritably up at Fleur's expression of haughty disdain.

"I'm done with my napkins," she said curtly. Then she walked off, perhaps to pick which books she would bring to Godric's Hollow.

* * *

**[A/N: Caution. Put in your earplugs NOW. There is no yaoi in this chapter (or in this story at all) but some of the situations in the next section may provoke the dreaded Harry Potter Yaoi Fangirl Scream. Proceed with utmost care!]**

Finally, night fell over the Burrow on the last day before the wedding. It was nearly unrecognizable. The yard was clean, the garden gnomeless, a gigantic white marquee set up in a field with pruned-up flowerpots lining a pathway to it. The trees bore ribbons and bells and doves, and shimmered in shades of gold and blue. They were originally going to be gold and purple, but for some reason the purple ones kept changing color when Mrs. Weasley wasn't looking, so she changed her mind.

Food was to be brought in, but Mrs. Weasley insisted on making a few traditional dishes, so that the kitchen was laden with platters; some on the counters, some floating. The bedrooms were more tidy than ever seemed possible; though the chance that someone would come upstairs was very slim, it nagged at Mrs. Weasley, as it does all mothers, and she demanded cleanliness. Unbeknownst to Mrs. Weasley, there were also bags and traveling cases neatly packed under each bed for the upcoming journey. If she had looked closely, she would have seen the radishes ythat had been sewed to Luna's bag peeking out from her bunk.

And now it was time for washing.

There were two bathrooms in the house, and Fleur had immediately taken the first, so the teens took turns with the second. Harry and Draco had finished both of their showers and were in the boy's bedroom, looking for clean clothes.

Fumbling through his bag, Harry suddenly paused in thought, as he had done multiple times during that day, and looked over at Draco. He was also rummaging in a bag, a bright red towel around his waist, looking irritable and mumbling to himself.

"-not _folded_ at all... do I even _have_..."

Harry considered him. He had been acting in such a confusing way lately; Harry almost couldn't tell who he was. He was silent sometimes, moody at others.... Was this still Malfoy?

"Enjoying the view, Potter?"

Harry realized too late that he had left his eyes in a most awkward position during his reverie. Draco twitched his nose angrily, hiked up the towel, and returned to the haphazard bag. Finally he pulled out a dark green wad of boxers which he appeared satisfied with and pulled them on.

"Draco, you haven't been acting like yourself."

It sort of slipped out of his mouth. Draco didn't look at him, but he had stopped moving.

"Isn't that what you want, Potter?"

Harry clenched his toes uncomfortably. "Well, yeah..." Why _did_ it bother him? ...Oh yes. "We're just in a tight sort of spot, understand? People acting oddly makes us all think... we get uncomf-"

"You think I'm plotting something, don't you?" snarled Draco. "You think I'm going to kill you all?"

Harry had only a second to regret his words before he found the tip of Draco's wand in his face, and Draco inches behind. Harry reached for his own wand instinctively.

"I could, you know," Draco said softly.

"Er-"

"I could kill you now, Potter. Right here in this room. With two words."

Harry forcibly relaxed himself. "No, Draco, you couldn't."

"What- you dare to think-"

"You can't kill people, Draco. I watched you try." He smiled grimly. "And by the way, first-name rule."

Suddenly the door burst open.

"Luna!" they shouted at the same time. Draco dropped his wand and hastily wrapped his towel around his bare torso, and Harry hiked up his own, flushing.

"Oh!" said Luna softly, and she pivoted and strode right back out.

Draco stared furiously at the door for a moment as Harry smiled weakly, before they went back to their suitcases, Draco muttering something like "I swear..."

Then, without warning, the door opened again . "By the way, Draco, I like your boxers-"

"GET OUT!" shouted Draco, and Luna swept away as Harry laughed and shook his head.

-----------

Soon everyone had taken a shower and, once again, Harry, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna, and Draco were all gathered in the boy's bedroom. But there was a very different atmosphere tonight.

Hermione stood up, and stole a nervous glance at the door; Harry pointed his wand at it instinctively and said, "_Muffliato__!_" She glared at him but seemed to have more pressing things on her mind. There was a tapping noise at the window and Harry let Hedwig inside, who hooted gratefuly; it was windy out.

"Alright," said Hermione impatiently, "so the wedding begins tomorrow evening. Some of the guests are staying over. We probably ought to leave soon after. And I suppose we're going to... Godric's Hollow?"

Harry looked up at her inquiring tone.

"Well... " she continued, "shouldn't we really be looking for the..."

"Yes, if we knew where they were," replied Harry. "What leads have we got?"

"R.A.B said he destroyed the locket," replied Ron. "That's about it. But what if he did destroy it?"

But then Ginny spoke. "You've lost me, guys."

Harry looked around; Ginny and Draco were raising their eyebrows, and Luna was smiling blankly. Suddenly he remembered that nobody knew about the Horcruxes but he, Ron, and Hermione.

Hermione caught Harry's eye, and he nodded. There was no point in trying to hide it if Luna, Draco, and Ginny-his stomach lurched- were to stay, so Hermione went on to explain the Horcruxes. Luna stared more intently at her with every word, Ginny had a look of growing disgust on her face, but Draco just looked even more bewildered than he had before.

"Wait- you mean to tell me that this is how the Dark- how He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has lived? For _years_?" he said.

"And I thought you'd know everything there was," snarled Ron derisively. Draco started to snap back, but Hermione put in her own two cents by elbowing Ron in the shoulder.

Ron looked at her angrily as she stared back in clear annoyance, but then something odd happened: The anger on Ron's face suddenly melted, to be replaced by an expression somewhere between perplexed and horrified- as though she had just told him that she had murdered twenty people on a killing spree, and certainly not appropriate for the annoyed nudge he had been given.

"What, Ron?"

He narrowed his eyes and looked away.

Hermione looked helplessly around the room. When everyone seemed just as perplexed as she was, she shrugged, and continued. "Er- so, the only way to get rid of a Horcrux is by doing something really destructive- like stabbing it with a basilisk fang. You can't get rid of it by throwing it in a fire or something. Then the bit of soul is destroyed."

"How did you find that out, Hermione?" asked Harry, who had not been given this information before.

Hermione smiled grimly and pulled a blackened book out of her bag as though it were a dead rat. "Dumbledore took this out of the library years ago, and they were still in his office. It goes into detail about making the Horcrux, too... awful stuff..."

"So you took it from the school?" said Luna matter-of-factly.

Hermione flushed. "Well- I mean, it's not like we're using them to do Dark Magic-"

"Of course we're not," said Ginny bracingly. "But how do we get to them?"

"That's just the thing, Ginny, we don't know. But I know we've been planning on Godric's Hollow... that's the first place... although, I'm not sure it would be safe-"

"When?"

"Er- well, I suppose a few days after the wedding, when you two-" Hermione gestured at Luna and Draco- "are supposed to be leaving. You'll probably go by Floo powder. You could... Oh! You both go to Diagon Alley instead, and we'll all meet you there."

"Well, I've got it set up so that Mum will think I've got spattergroit," Ron reasoned, "but how will the rest of us get away?" He looked thoughtful.

"...Come to think of it, how did _you _two get away?" Ginny added at Luna and Draco.

"Oh!" said Luna all of a sudden. "I suppose my father is really worried, isn't he?"

And she took out her wand, produced a Patronus, and whispered a few words to it. It sailed out the window.

"Just told him I'm alright, he can't very well come looking for me, can he?" she said reasonably. "You might want to do the same, Draco, or do your parents already know?"

"They think I'm dead," said Draco shortly.

There was silence for a moment. Then Ron said, "Why would they think that?"

Hermione resisted the urge to elbow him again, partly because Ron was not interrupting anything and she didn't particularly care for Draco's feelings. But Ron noticed her twitch, and for some reason this made him narrow his eyes again.

"Because I told them so," Draco said to Ron impatiently. "Or rather, Snape's told them. I faked my death and ran away before we went to the manor." A hint of boyish pride crept into his voice, but it was smothered as a pang hit his stomach: He doubted that Snape had really been fooled.

Hermione slowly nodded. "Yes, my parents don't know they've got a child anymore. I modified their memories." Ron's harsh look faded a little at this and he looked rather uncomfortable.

Silence reigned in the room for a minute, before Ginny spoke up. "But what are we going to do about-"

The door burst open then and Molly Weasley stood there, looking irate.

"...Mum," Ginny finished.

"Bed," said Mrs. Weasley shortly, and the girls jumped up. Harry suspected she had heard whispers of their plans to leave, if nothing more.

But he saw Ginny make a tiny motion to him as she left the room, and under the pretense of brushing his teeth, Harry followed her out. He saw Ron leave too but didn;t watch him. As Mrs. Weasley went downstairs, Harry slipped quietly into Ginny's room; she shut the door.

The wind earlier that night had turned to light rain. It made a soft patter on Ginny's window as she stepped up to him.

"I noticed you've been nervous."

He was.

"You're nervous whenever we talk about leaving."

Was he? He hadn't noticed.

"I just hope you're not going to suddenly ditch us and go off on your own like you've tried to do, because that would be stupid." She looked pointedly at him and Harry suddenly snapped back to reality.

"Wh- I wouldn't _ditch_-"

"That's not what you call it, but whenever you talk about how it's too dangerous for us to go with you, or how you don't want to give us trouble- you're talking about ditching us."

"I-"

"Don't you recognize what all we've done so we can come with you?! Hermione Obliviated her mum and dad! Harry, _Draco_ _Malfoy _faked his own death to join you! Why, I have no idea, but he did!"

"Ginny... I don't think he did that out of undying loyalty to me."

The corner of Ginny's mouth twitched. "But Harry, don't you see the point? We've all done this stuff so that we can join you. If you just run off without us... you're just- _ditching_ us. And everything we did for you."

"But Ginny- I- everyone's life will be in danger- yours especially, Ginny! You could-"

"_I __don__'__t __bloody __care__!_"

And suddenly her lips were on his, and her hands were in his hair, and for the next few minutes he could not think about Godric's Hollow at all.

--------

Meanwhile, down the hall, Ron and Hermione were having a hushed argument too.

"-_sympathizing _with him- the rat-"

"Ron, I can't believe you! You weren't doing anything to help the circumstances and I wanted to talk about the Horcruxes, of course I got annoyed!"

"-your enemy, he calls you a Mudblood!"

"I thought we were all agreed he could join us, and we can't keep a team that hates its members, can we?"

"_You_ were the one that said we should give him a chance! I didn't want anything to do with it!"

"But now that he's here, can't you just- put it aside?"

"No! And why should I? He hasn't done anything to redeem himself!"

"You'll notice he hasn't called me anything since he got here."

"There you go defending him again!"

"Defendi- what?! I'm just trying to keep us from falling apart before we even see Vold-"

"Don't!" Ron looked fearful. "I'm just saying- you're treating him like he's an old friend, Hermione."

"I'm treating him with courtesy, Ron!"

"He doesn't deserve it!" Ron nearly shouted. Suddenly he narrowed his eyes again. "Or does he, Hermione? You two aren't- you know?" He held up two crossed fingers angrily.

A slap echoed around the dark hall.

"Ron, you're losing your mind, and I think I know why," said Hermione as Ron rubbed his cheek. "You remember when I said these were strange circumstances and strange things would happen?"

"...Yes." He looked at her through watering eyes.

"Well, this is one of those things. We have to show courtesy to Draco. You're not used to it, so you're getting paranoid that something's badly wrong."

She stepped closer and looked up at him.

"Ron... don't be paranoid. You know I would never fall for a ferret."

Ron stood still for a moment.

"Never?"

"Never, and I can prove it."

And she stood on tiptoe and kissed him right on the lips.

As they stood there locked in a tight embrace, and as Ginny held Harry down the hall, and Draco tossed in his sleep in the boy's bedroom, and Luna slumbered peacefully in the girls', the only sound in the house was the patter of rain, getting louder and louder.

* * *

**A/N** Aww, what a nice way to end. I figure you can't go wrong with some canon lovin'! The Draluna will be kicking in later, once the poor sod gets his psyche even more scrambled :)Hey! Hey! You want a plot twist next chapter? Nice, big, JUICY plot twist? -throws- Go! Fetch the plot twist! (that means review!) Pitfit!

Answer to last special: ambiguous

Today's Special: Trivia  
Did you know that next month (February, that is) is National Cherry Pie Month, Nat'l Pet Dental Health Month, International Boost Self-Esteem Month, Spunky Old Broads Month (Feb 1st is Spunky Old Broads Day), and of course, Black History Month?

end special

tiger-SAMBA signing off


	6. The Twice Cursed Man

**The Twice-Cursed Man**

Disclaimer: It ain't mine.  
**A/N:** Well, kids, I'm awfully disappointed! While my handy-dandy traffic report tells me that about 18 people visited the last chapter, NOT A SINGLE ONE REVIEWED IT! C'mon... I mean, I know there wasn't a lot of action in it, but you could at LEAST tell me if I did well or not... it ain't that hard. Reviews are what keep me GOING, man!  
Although I will thank Ocean's Nocturne of the COCA, who added this to her alerts. Thanks with a watermelon!

Anyway, THIS was a much more fun chapter to write than the last (sadistic much? says my conscience), plus it has a key plot point, so maybe it'll be better. I also edited the first chapter (again) because it starts out so slow... I wanna catch your attention with it.  
And since we've gotten so bored with Harry and friends (and rival), I figured we'd take a field trip this chapter. Say... Wiltshire, perhaps?

Enjoy....

* * *

The man fell to the floor, gasping for air and coughing blood onto the cold stone.

"My- my Lord- please, I- we remain loyal-"

"Loyal!" a cold voice shrieked. "To whom? Your loyalties do not lie with me!"

"N-no, my Lord- I do not understand-"

"_Crucio__!_"

He could not believe that he had ever felt more agonizing torment than this, as he lay writhing and tossing on the stone floor of the parlor. His breath was crushed from his lungs as though by iron- his tormentor seemed to be channeling a passionate stream of his own wrath into the spell. He had felt the Cruciatus Curse before, but never with such _intensity-_ the kind that threatened to tear him apart with anguished screams- and burn through every nerve in his body- it did not stop, it would not stop-

After thirty full seconds, his shaking body fell limp against the ground, racked with heaving breaths.

"Do not play me for a fool, Lucius!" screamed Voldemort. "Your family fell out of my favor. Then I gave your son a mission, a mission you felt he was incapable of, and you helped him- and now the prize is _worthless._" He brandished his wand- the white, unearthly wand stolen from the grave of Albus Dumbledore. "And now you have helped him escape, and he is on the run from his destiny as my follower!"

"...N-no..." whispered Lucius weakly; it was all he could do to stay conscious.

"No?" Voldemort said angrily, stepping closer. "Then why is it that, after your entire family has failed me, Draco has not returned from his last mission? Why is it that I do not know where he is?"

"My lord, he... he is dead..."

"Fool!" screamed Voldemort, and Lucius found himself thrown against the far wall of the room. "You know as well as I that he lives! It was you that gave him the protection that keeps him so!"

Lucius's eyes widened suddenly, and he looked up. Could this be a miracle? Or a lie? He distinctly remembered the terrible moment when Severus told him of Draco's death, but the Dark Lord was a great Legilimens... was there something he knew that Lucius did not?

"Yes, Lucius!" Voldemort was saying. "I can sense that he lives! And although your son has become an accomplished Occlumens- no doubt through your covert teaching- I know that there is something else blocking my senses... some sort of protection... I do not know where he has gone!

"Are you claiming that this was not your doing? That you did not send him from a compromising situation, protect him, fake his death, and try to convince me that your puling lies were true? Was the Department of Ministries insufficient for your duplicity?"

But Lucius was barely listening: all he heard was that his son was alive and protected. By whom he did not know, but did it matter...

Suddenly he was jerked upright, forced against the wall again, Voldemort's wand inches from his heart. His voice was low but shook with anger.

"Lucius, it would not do to have traitors among us."

Plastered against the stone, he could only shut his eyes and prepare for the end; it was no use doing anything else. He knew what was going to happen now. He acutely heard Voldemort take a breath, prepare to speak the incantation... and for a split second he wondered what would happen after he said it. Perhaps he would cease to exist. Or perhaps he would become a ghost and watch as the rest of his family was torn apart. But Draco! Draco... he was still alive, he could escape... When would his son realize that he had died?

Voldemort paused abruptly, and so did Lucius's thoughts.

"No." A cold smile was spreading over his face and into his voice. "No, for that leaves us the problem of Draco... but you know where he is, don't you, Lucius?"

In fact Lucius had no idea. He wondered if Draco was safe-

"_Imprimo __Geas__!_"

Suddenly, a streak of something like purple lightning shot from Voldemort's wand. It wrapped itself around Lucius, hissing and sparking, and entwined his entire body: limbs, hands, fingers, neck, hair. Though was not painful, aside from a burning sting on the back of his neck, Lucius knew what it was, and it chilled him.

The Geas Curse, an offshoot of the Imperius Curse, gave its victim a simple but magically powerful command. Lucius had never been put under a geas before, but he had seen people who had, and they were forced to do whatever was necessary to fulfill it. He'd seen people forced to starve themselves... or their families.

And he could do nothing but stare as Voldemort spoke the words of the command he, Lucuis Malfoy, would have to fulfill:

"_You __must __take __the __life __of __your __son__._"

The back of his neck burned as though it were ablaze; Voldemort laughed a wild, ringing laugh and Disapparated; the lightning released its hold; and the world went black.

* * *

Narcissa came home.

Had the times been normal, she might have sensed something, felt a faint trace of darkness in the air from Voldemort's encounter, but as Malfoy Manor was now Voldemort's headquarters, she felt nothing especially unusual. And so when she walked into the parlor, she froze.

Narcissa stared at the slumped figure on the stone- hair bloody, face bruised- and then flew over and dropped to her knees by its side: for all she knew, her husband was dead. She put her ear to his chest; if there was any noise, his clothes muffled it. Narcissa began to panic and slid her hand beneath his bloody robes, checking for a pulse. There was a faint sensation; was it a heartbeat? She couldn't tell... Merlin, she couldn't tell... In despair, she leaned her head against his shoulder, one hand still desperately over his heart, the other sliding tenderly around his neck...

Suddenly Lucius took a great rasping breath and Narcissa nearly toppled backwards.

"L-Lucius?" she stammered, regaining her composure.

He stared blearily at her. Then, sighing with relief, he recognized her and embraced her tightly.

"Lucius, what _happened_ to you?" said Narcissa, pulling out of his arms.

"The Dark Lord..." he responded weakly. "He... he is angry..."

"Hasn't he done enough? He has punished us already!"

"No, Narcissa- he believes I helped Draco to flee him. He thinks we have betrayed him."

Narcissa's eyes went wide. "But... but Draco... he's..."

Lucius gazed up at her with what could have been joy or terror. "No, Draco is alive! He is protected! The Dark Lord can sense it!"

For a moment Narcissa could not say anything.

"Of course..." she murmured finally. "Yes... of course he's alive! Draco will live out his life! I always knew it!" She sounded giddy, beaming at him. "Lucius, our son's _alive_!"

But Lucius only turned away.

"Lucius..." she started, panic creeping in at the corners of her ecstasy. "He's alive, isn't he?"

He nodded. "...But that is why the Dark Lord is angry. He believes Draco is alive because we interfered with his plan to attack Hogwarts School... He believes we are the ones who give Draco protection and hide his location..."

"And he punished you.... Oh, Lucius..." She leaned her head against his cheek, but sounded relieved that nothing had happened to her son.

"He has done something more."

Narcissa stopped, and looked back up at him with fear.

"I..." He was suddenly constricted, afraid to tell her the truth. "I... my neck."

"What?"

"My neck. You touched it, and something happened. I don't know what..."

She looked at him curiously, then rose up on her knees and brushed aside his long blond hair to expose the back of the neck. What she saw made her gasp.

There was a ring of purple there, a smooth mark set into his skin so that it looked like the scar of an odd wound. Without thinking she brushed her finger against it, and Lucius inhaled sharply as an electric shiver went down his spine.

"Lucius..." she said in an alarmed voice. "I know what that mark is. I've seen it before."

Her husband did not look at her. He could sense the mounting panic that seized her body next to his.

"Lucius, _what __must __be __done__?_"

He stared at the stone floor. Finally, he said, "Draco must die... by my hand."

"No!"

He shut his eyes.

"No!" She was getting louder. "No, no, no! That's not what it is! That's not what the geas is!"

She was pleading with him, shaking her head violently. She was begging him to make it all a dream. But even for his wife and dearest love, Lucius could not do this, and Narcissa just buried her head in his robes and wailed.

* * *

They didn't know how long they had been there. Probably hours. Narcissa had fallen into Lucius's arms, shaking with anger and grief as he held her.

After a long while, both of them opened their eyes. Lucius leaned down and gave her a gentle kiss, bruised face relaxing as he did so. "What can we do?"

"I don't know," replied Narcissa softly. "You must make a geas- your first priority."

"There must be something," Lucius said desperately. "We... we could run..."

But even as he said it Lucius felt another uncomfortable shiver emanate from the ring on his neck, and he knew that it would not allow such a thing.

"I only hope Draco has not tried to run," murmured Narcissa. "Surely he knows he is bound for life..."

"Or until the Dark Lord falls," Lucius added softly. Narcissa gazed up at him suspiciously; he was staring across the parlor.

Suddenly there was a loud CRACK! from the next room.

"Evening, Lucius, Narcissa," said Snape as he came around the corner, nodding to them. He paid little attention to the pitiful pair, and continued on his way.

"Severus!" called Lucius suddenly.

Snape turned. "Yes?"

"You told me my son was dead!"

"That is what I believed," replied Snape.

"You lied to me, Severus," whispered Lucius. "He is alive! Alive and protected! You lied to me!"

"I told you what I thought to be true, Lucius," said Snape coolly. "To summarize, we were being pursued, there was a shout, and Draco was gone. It took very little deductive reasoning."

Lucius just stared at him, wild-eyed. Perhaps if Severus had told him Draco was alive... this could have been foreseen... it could have been prevented... It was insane logic, but he was not entirely sane at the moment.

"How do you know he is alive, Lucius?"

"The Dark Lord knows it," he hissed.

"Does he?" Snape sounded mildly interested. "And why would he choose to reveal that to you?"

Lucius choked. "...To... to kill..."

"Hmm?"

"To order me to kill him!" shouted Lucius.

This seemed to catch Snape's full attention: He froze.

"...To kill Draco?" he repeated after a moment.

"Yes, Draco," whispered Lucius. His breathing was shallow and irregular. "The Geas Curse."

There was a pause of silence.

"To punish you, he told you something that directly countered what I had told you?" Snape said, somewhat composed again.

Narcissa looked up this time. "What are you saying, Severus?"

"Nothing, Narcissa... just pondering..."

And with that he disappeared around another corner.

"Lucius... you don't think..." started Narcissa.

"That the Dark Lord is the one who deceived us?" finished her husband. "No, I don't. If he was, he would have killed me. The only reason he spared me was so that he would not have to deal with Draco himself."

"But he is very cruel, Lucius, and very angry. Can we be certain...?"

Lucius looked at her, then dropped his head. He did not know who he could trust. No Death Eater ever did.

* * *

In a room close by, Severus Snape was thinking things through. He had, of course, been lying through his teeth when he brought Lucius the news of Draco's death. He did not believe the child's ruse for a moment; where he was now was anyone's guess, but he had escaped from Severus alive. He thought that by telling the Malfoys Draco was already dead, Voldemort would believe the same when he questioned them about their failure, and he would not send anyone after the boy. But apparently Voldemort had another way of finding out the status of Draco Malfoy. Snape had never realized Legilimency could reach so far...

But it couldn't, he realized. Unless Draco was being hidden in his own house (a viable possibility, thought Snape), Voldemort's Legilimency would not work on someone so far away. That was not how it worked without an intervening outside force. Of course, Voldemort's arrogance would lead him to believe that his power could override that...

But in any case, _something_ was letting Voldemort know that Draco was alive. He didn't understand. Perhaps he was in the proximity of a Death Eater, whose connection to Voldemort allowed him to sense Draco's existence...? No, because Draco himself had become a Death Eater. He had never heard of anything like that happening before... Perhaps he was close to someone else who had a connection to Voldemort?

In any case, his hopes of keeping Draco safe had been all but dashed in the past few minutes. He sighed. Then, quietly, he looked around the corner into the parlor, at Lucius and his wife.

They had gotten up, the two of them, and they were at the window together. The high, towering window, with a perfect view of the pitch-black sky. Each seemed not to notice the other's embrace. They stared up at that sky, the sky with no moon to light the earth. The stars, however, were infinite.

Narcissa and Lucius gazed out through the window, deep into the heavens, each lost in the same thoughts, as a cold night breeze brushed the glass. Perhaps, if they looked long enough, they would see the answers to the universe written there.

* * *

**A/N:**I.. I... what have I DONE!?

Oh no.. oh no... -rocks back and forth-  
What will happen to Draco and friends(er, "friends") now?

By the way, I really do love NarcissaxLucius. Could you tell? And another note: I did not make up the term "geas", for those of you who haven't heard that before. It is an actual term and it means exactly what Lucius told you it meant: an extremely, magically powerful command that must be made its victim's first priority. It is also pronounced "gay-us" (not "jeez", as I pronounced it a few times =-=). If you know your Celtic mythology you may have heard of a "gesa" which is similar.

Adios, and don't forget ta review- especially this chapter, because by its very nature it was pretty difficult to write. You can jsut tell me if I did well or not- as long as you're honest! If you can't be honest... well, tell me your favorite food. (That, or be conventional and don't review at all. ;-) )

Today's Special: Definition  
lothario: (noun) a man whose chief interest is seducing women. (Merriam-Webster online)  
End Special

tiger-SAMBA signing off


	7. A Look Inside The Moon

Disclaimer: I own this. Not.

**A/N** Yeah, it feels like this is a short chapter, but I guess it's not really. I was gonna put the whole wedding into one chapter, but man, I underestimated how much space that'd take! Interesting things happen at the wedding.... interesting things indeed...

I've sorta been sacrificing time writing this for time writing a murder story about a guy who gets killed onstage. Fun!  
And now, listen to our new broadcast: Luna Lovegood on the merits of power!

* * *

It was fairly nice outside. A calm breeze blew through Luna's hair.

_I __wonder __when __the __guests __are __supposed __to __come__. __I __hope __there__'__s __dancing__._

She picked a clover from the ground beside her and peered at it.

_Dancing __always __makes __parties __more __fun__. __People __always __hope __they__'__ll __get __someone __to __dance __with__._

It was a rather pretty violet color.

_I __wonder __if __Draco __hopes __he __gets __someone __to __dance __with__. _

The clover had a fascinating petal structure, and she thought about that for a while. Her thoughts came back to where she'd left them a few minutes later.

_I __wonder __if __he __still __thinks __about __that __girl __with __the __bobbed __hair__. __What __was __her __name__? __A __flower__... __oh __yes__, __Pansy__. __Or __maybe __he__'__s __forgotten __her__... __I __wonder __if __they __ever __danced__. __Oh__, __but __they __did__, __they __did __a __good __Viennese __waltz __at __the __Yule __Ball__. __I __liked __that __song__. __I __wonder __if __Draco __feels __like __he__'__s __got __a __new __life __now__._

That struck her as interesting, and she thought about that for a while.

_Does __he __still __think __about __his __old __life__? __Maybe __he __doesn__'__t __know __where __the __one __quit __and __the __other __began__. __Or __maybe __they__'__re __all __just __the __same __thing__. __I __don__'__t __know__. __I__'__ve __never __had __an __old __and __a __new __life__, __really__. __I __wonder __what __it__'__s __like__._

"THERE you are!"

Luna turned to see Draco sprinting down the hill at her.

"Bloody- the guests will be here in an hour! She's a powder keg!" he panted angrily. "Come on, or we're all going to die!"

"Thank you, Draco," smiled Luna. She tucked the interesting clover behind her ear, and got up. Draco stood there for a moment to catch his breath, but came trotting beside her in a moment.

"I don't understand you, woman," he said bluntly.

"Well, that doesn't surprise me, Draco."

"No, I don't understand you generally, but I also don't understand you on one specific point."

"That's complicated."

"Aren't... aren't you _stressed_ at all, Luna?" he asked her with a furrowed brow.

Luna thought for a moment.

"Well, occasionally," she said seriously. "I get stressed when I see people getting mad over silly things, like power."

Draco looked at her for a moment the way one might look at a potato on a corn stalk. "You're insane... you don't set any store by power?"

"Am I insane?" Luna asked rhetorically, though as she looked up at him with her protuberant eyes and wild blond hair Draco nearly answered. "I mean, if you've got good ideas, then I suppose power's a good goal to have. But I don't understand why people would want power when they don't have good ideas. What will you do once you get it? Be confused and attract angry mobs?" She laughed lightly, as though she thought the whole issue was a lighthearted play to be watched with the family.

"Power isn't a stupid thing to want," retorted Draco. "Do you know what it's like?"

"Do you?" asked Luna.

"Well," began Draco, a little harshly, "I've had power a few times. I don't think you know anything about it."

"Tell me, then."

Her voice was still calm and level as ever, which annoyed Draco further.

"Well... well, when all your life there's been someone to follow, someone to tell you what to do, always someone higher up, and then all of a sudden there isn't… you don't know what that rush is like. When there's no _ceiling_ anymore. When... when you _are _the ceiling…."

He was talking nonsense, he thought distantly, but this was Luna, so it didn't actually matter. He also realized that his voice had become a passionate whisper.

"You've never controlled the wind… how someone lives or dies. You've never been out in the open air holding someone over a cliff… I can't even put it into words, Luna, you don't know anything about power."

Luna didn't say anything for a moment.

"Well, if I were holding someone over the edge of a cliff," she finally reasoned, "I figure I'd overbalance and fall off myself."

"Er," Draco stuttered eloquently. He hadn't expected that. "Er- well, that's you, Luna. I, on the other hand…"

"No, it's not me. It's physics. If you're standing close enough to a cliff to hold a normal human over the edge, you'd have to have terrific core strength to stay standing."

A small leaf landed in Draco's open mouth. He spat it out.

"So I think that the only people who have the right to power are the people who have really strong abs, and if everyone else would realize that they aren't those people, the world would be a lot better."

"Well, if that's so simple," replied Draco defensively, composure regained, "then how can so many people scare the entire country by having power?" He smirked a little as he thought of his left arm. That smirk vanished very suddenly. He hastily looked away.

"The way I see it, the Death Eaters are just humans that have been exaggerated."

Draco's brow furrowed until it might have cut into his skull. Half of him wondered how she knew he had been talking about Death Eaters, and the other half wondered what in the name of any deity on the world what she was talking about. She seemed to sense the latter.

"Well, most humans want power, I suppose, and they want people to know them, and they want people to respect them, and they want to be better than everyone else, and they also want something to do. Death Eaters just take that into the extreme. And, of course… they're not so human after that."

"How's that work?" Draco asked, forgetting to be irritable.

"Have you ever read _Macbeth_, Draco?"

"Parts."

"Did you read the part where he says 'I dare do all that may become a man; who dares do more is none'?"

"…No."

"Well, I think that's what happens."

Draco was trying so hard to wrap his brain around what Luna had just said that he didn't notice as he lagged behind her, more and more, until he finally stopped altogether, head cocked and an absurdly confused expression on his face as he stared at the grass. Luna skipped happily into the Burrow.

Minutes passed.

"_Finite __Incantatem__!__"_

Suddenly something struck Draco hard in the shoulder and he whirled around with a yell.

Hermione was standing there looking urgent with Harry and Ron. Her wand pointed at him.

"What was that for?" he shouted.

"Who Stunned you, Draco? You have to tell us!"

Suddenly Draco laughed shortly. "Nobody Stunned me, idiot, I was thinking! Perhaps you don't know what that looks like?"

Hermione turned pink. "Malfoy, you know perfectly well how careful-"

"First names only, _Hermione_," he reminded her.

Ron started. "You don't deserve a letter, you little-"

"**EVERYBODY ****IN****!**" screamed a scarlet Mrs. Weasley from the front door.

They hastily and silently obeyed.

* * *

It was an incredible rush that hour before the wedding, considering all the preparations they had done for the past three days. Harry, for protection or some such thing, had to drink Polyjuice Potion that turned him into a redheaded relative of some sort.

But then the moment came where Mrs. Weasley turned to Draco: she had not been able to brew a Polyjuice Potion for him, but too many knew that he was the son of Lucius Malfoy. After staring at him for a few tense moments, she made a decision.

"_Tropochaetos__!_"

And Draco's hair instantly turned from a slick ice blond to a tangled, mousy brown.

"What?!" demanded Draco when Harry stifled a snort. He was shown to a mirror.

Raucous laughter and shouts of fury ensued for the next minute, until Mrs. Weasley ordered them outside again to check the tent decorations one more time. But by the time of this mirth, the guests were arriving!

* * *

**A/N  
**Draco: Angst. Angst. Angst. Angst.  
Harry: Hey, that's my line!  
Draco: Well, I'm sorry, but the author says I have to!  
Me: Only until you hit the lowest point of your life.  
Draco: Oh, good.  
Me: Which should be coming in a few chapters!!!!!  
Draco: .......ugh...  
Me: And that's when the romance really kicks in!  
Draco: Wait- wha- romance?! With _who_?  
Me: -laughs nefariously-

I enjoyed getting into Luna's mind this chapter. Hehehehe!

Today's Special: Quote  
Here's how it works. First person to get the quote (where it comes from) gets to pick an occupation and a name. Next chapter, I will incorporate a character with that occupation and name into the story.  
Here goes:  
"Anyhoo, so in comes her brother Brad- the _brat_. And he's all like, 'OH MY GOSH, YOU'RE EATING MY BEANIE WEENIES!' And I start laughing, right?... And...I shot a beanie out my nose."  
End Special

tiger-SAMBA signing off


	8. A Tied Knot, A Severed Thread

**A Tied Knot, A Severed Thread**

A/N: THAT title sounds metaphorical, doesn't it?

YES! I've finally uploaded the next chapter! I keep getting a trickle of people putting this on alerts, and one, TopazDragon, gave me an unexpected review: thanks for that! I always got a pang whenever something from showed up in my inbox; I hadn't worked on this in a while... now, of course, it seems so short, but something big happens in it. For Draco at least. I'm sorry, I'm just happy that I've finally gotten something up on this. Now to hope not everyone has given up on it... truly, I did have stuff going on (travels to Europe and the language-learning that accompanies it, for example) but at this point, I'm not going to apologize again, because I know you're tired of hearing it. I'm at your mercy at this point.

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling still owns this. There is also something in this chapter I must attribute to Edgar Allan Poe, and some charaters for whom I have to give a nod to Shakespeare. (See? Now you HAVE to read it!)

Also, since it's been so long, a recap:  
Fleur and Bill are getting married; Draco has been turned brunette because of the slight possibility that someone would recognize him as a Death Eater's son; Lucius has been placed under a geas to kill Draco; when we last left off, the guests were just arriving to the wedding at the Burrow.

Enjoy!

* * *

They poured into the yard as though a dam had burst forth. First Charlie came from off in Romania, to a shower of hugs from Mrs. Weasley . Then some Delacour cousins filed in, in their flowing veela dresses (luckily none were bright purple), followed by a rabble of red (or gray) haired relatives, a few good neighbors, and friends of all nationalities. Soon the large marquee on the hill was overflowing. Children ran around the grass in between the giggling veelas and the boys trying to impress them.

"Beautiful day, isn't it?" said Hermione happily.

"They couldn't have picked a better one," Harry agreed.

"It's too hot," snapped Draco.

Ron punched him in the shoulder. "Get over it! If your hair's too dark, then shave it off!"

"I never got so hot when I was blond. It's terrible."

"Go dunk your head in the stream, then," said Ginny tartly. "Just make sure you're back in time for the ceremony, it's about to start."

Draco did not end up dunking his head in the stream, though he was sure Ginny would have liked to have helped him with it. He sat through the ceremony and pretended to listen. His thoughts wandered from the traditional ceremony in front of him, to hand fasting, to a very tight-bodiced purple dress, to Fleur's long blond hair, to his own previously blond hair, to blond hair in general and then, oddly, to Macbeth. He really ought to read the whole thing, he thought. But he brushed that thought aside. The congregation was standing up to sing, so he hauled himself up and faced the newlyweds.

Hear the mellow wedding bells- golden bells!

What a world of happiness their harmony foretells!

Through the balmy air of night

How they ring out their delight

Through the molten-golden notes

And all in tune…

Draco did not sing that song. He had heard it somewhere before, but there were more verses. He vaguely remembered it having a rather disturbing ending.

After the ceremony all the chairs disappeared, and the floor under the gigantic marquee transformed itself into a shining, golden dance floor. In fact the whole marquee changed: all around the circular dance floor the ground rose up to create a sort of balcony, with chairs and tables, and steps all around down to the floor. The six teenagers sat around one of the golden tables, but not for long.

"Ron," said Hermione, "your mother will want to see your waltz."

Ron looked nervous. "I'm not a dancer, he muttered."

"Do it now and she won't ask you to later," Hermione replied. She pulled him up by the arm and glided to the dance floor.

"Okay, then," breathed Ron, following.

Seeing them, Harry stopped arguing with himself and stuck his hand out to Ginny- and realized she was holding hers out too. They rose and left.

This left Luna and Draco.

Draco sat huddled tightly in his chair, because he wouldn't have put it past Luna to drag him down to the dance floor, and in all sincerity he didn't want to dance with anyone at that point.

Luna rose, walked around the table, and looked back at him.

_Oh, no. She'll ask me to dance. She's going to. Well, I'll just say no, that's what I'll do._

"You look very stressed, Draco," said Luna, "you should try the beetroot tea."

And she glided down to the dance floor and began to whirl around by herself.

Draco watched her for a moment. She looked insane but she was quite graceful anyway. He huddled back into the seat and thought about the journey they would all take tomorrow; he hoped the wedding would end soon, and perhaps they could all get a better nights' sleep. A loud, annoying tapping noise pulled him from these thoughts; he looked down and saw that it was his shaking foot, hitting the table leg over and over.

A sanguine, red-haired man who looked rather tipsy sat down next to him.

"That," said a sanguine, red-haired, tipsy-looking man who had plopped himself down next to him, waving his arm at a vague area on the left side of the dance floor, "is a terrible dancer."

"Er...who?" said Draco.

"Don't you see?! That one. The girl!"

Draco's eyes narrowed. "There's fifty girls down there."

"The one… with the shirt- don't you see her, she's terrible! She's dancing like it was nineteen-thirty-one!"

"They _all _have shirts on," growled Draco. He didn't care to have this man occupy his thoughts. But just as the man was about to yell out loud that it was obviously the girl with the hair, someone came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"What's that, Toby? A terrible dancer?"

"Aye, that girl with- with the shoe-"

"Ohhhhh," said the other, with an exaggerated nod. "Yes, that one, I see her, Toby. It's… that one!"

The new man pointed in the same vague direction as Toby, but Draco noticed his eyes were fixed on one spot. It was the spot where Luna was whirling.

"Aye, aye, now ya see. Why, I could teach her a thing or two," drawled Toby. "Look at my kin down there, cutting a rug. Am I not consanguineous?!" he added with a new, eager tone. "I'm headed down there! Let's have a caper!"

With that the unintelligible man jumped up, fell like wet pasta, picked himself up, and flung his arms onto one of the ladies on the dance floor before the rest of his body followed.

Draco and the other man watched him. As they did so Draco noticed a pouchy, stiff-looking man escorting Harry out of the marquee on the other side, with Ron, Hermione and Ginny following.

"Sometimes," said the lucid man with a wise sigh, distracting him, "you just have to go with what he says."

"But it was such nonsense!"

"Not necessarily, I do spy a rather misacquainted dancer down there," he said with a smirk. He gestured towards the dance floor: "Although I'm not sure she's wearing shoes."

Draco looked to where he was pointing and saw Luna. And no, she was not wearing any shoes. He was overwhelmed by a strange feeling for a moment: it was a fleeting second, but he was actually repulsed by the fact that she was down there dancing alone, instead of sitting by herself at some empty table. His face must have shown it, too, because the man grinned and said, "You look like you could take a load off. My name's Festi. I'll introduce you to some of my veela friends, if you'd like."

"I, actually-"

"Don't be so stiff, friend," quipped Festi, this time with a slightly edgier smirk.

Festi was not quite as annoying as the other man, Draco made himself think at that moment, because he could not think of a comeback that would get him away with dignity intact.

They both walked down, out of the marquee, to the fields. As they strolled, Festi said, "Really, I'm sorry about Toby. But you just have to learn to adapt to the situation, friend. What's your name, anyway?"

"Er- Goyle," Draco said, with the first name he thought of. He cringed a bit at comparing himself to Goyle. But all the other names that had flown into his head were those of prominent Death Eaters.

"Goyle?" repeated Festi. "Unusual name. Then again, I'm one to talk around here."

Draco forced himself not to agree. "Where are you from, then?"

"The coast," Festi replied, and even though this did not really answer anything Draco did not press the issue, because they were coming up on a group of people in the darkness. They were fairly far from the lights of the marquee now. Festi raised his hand and called out, "Hello, girls!"

The veela scattered.

Festi looked slightly crestfallen. "Well, we were hitting it off earlier… I wonder-" He stopped when Draco gasped. A bright white light had shot directly over Festi's head, towards the marquee.

They both whirled. The bright light now shown out of the marquee and the people had stopped dancing. A voice that sounded like Arthur Weasley's was booming out of it. What Draco caught was:

"…The Ministry has fallen. They are coming."

Draco and Festi stood frozen for a moment, as did, it seemed, everyone else. Then people began to scream.

A dark shadow whirled past Draco as he ran, away, away from the marquee. Festi was gone, having shot in the opposite direction. There must have been someone back there to rescue him, or someone for him to rescue- Toby, most likely- but Draco knew he had to run. He came across a pack of more shadows and ran right between them; an unintelligible noise came from one. There were now people scattering from the tent and screams racking the air; Draco was rapidly coming upon the forest edge. He suddenly became aware that there was someone directly behind him: whether they were pursuing him or simply fleeing he did not know. He ran faster; were they both being pursued by a Death Eater? A Death Eater!

The last thought exploded in his mind before the man behind him snatched at his arm, secured it, and sent them both tumbling into the grass. He was face-down. He heard the other breathing hard from exertion, and felt long hair against his face. They remained there for a few moments, unmoving.

There was something about the man's breathing, Draco realized, that was terrifyingly familiar. Why it was terrifying he did not know, but something made him want to sprint away, and at the same time remain frozen in place.

The man was still breathing hard, but the manner had changed. It was now staggered, shallow- anxious. His grip on Draco's arm had loosened, too, and Draco found he was able to turn over and face him. And there, framed against the moon, he indeed saw something familiar.

"…Father?"

Lucius's countenance, at first uneasy, morphed at the sight of his captive into pure, undiluted terror, and he screamed louder than Draco had ever imagined he could:

"_NO!!!_"

Draco scrambled out from beneath him. "Father-why- what are you- how did you get here? Why are we attacking them?"

A white light exploded out from the marquee, lighting up Lucius's white face. He was rising to his feet, trying to say something, but all that came out was a shout of despair. Suddenly Draco felt he understood.

"Father, it's true, I'm alive, I lied to you," he said in one burst, "and I'm sorry, I'm sorry I lied…"

Lucius was not moving save for the uncontrollable shaking of his hands, so Draco took a few staggered steps closer to him.

"I'll go back with you, I will!" he continued frantically. If he had been thinking clearly he would have realized the impossibility of such a proposition. But there was no clarity to be found right now. "Don't worry! I will! I will!"

He was within reach of Lucius now. A nervous smile tipped up the corners of Lucius's mouth, and he reached out hesitantly to embrace his son, but as he did so his hands went uncontrollably upward- towards, he realized, Draco's neck. With another small yell, he managed to stagger backward, but he was now shaking so horribly that he feared for his balance.

Draco, meanwhile, became even more bewildered. For some reason of which he had not the faintest idea, his father was _frightened_ of him.

Lucius's wide eyes broke away from Draco's. Instead, they followed his own hand, the one that was moving towards his robes. It reached inside, and pulled out a wand. Lucius made a small noise, but his hand continued to move, until the wand pointed at Draco.

"What?" murmured Draco. He backed away. Lucius stepped forward. Draco gave a noise of fright and scrambled backwards, nearly falling back onto his hands but picking himself up, into the forest.

"P-please..." said Lucius hoarsely.

"Why are you doing that? Stop! Father, stop!" Draco was screaming; his foot slipped on an edge and he fell into the stream Ginny had mentioned so long ago. Lucius stepped up to the edge; if his wand were not shaking so much it would have pointed straight at Draco's heart. He skittered back on his hands and slipped, immersing himself in the stream; his body had gone so weak he could barely move from picking himself up. He could not escape.

Another blast of light came from the marquee, possibly of sound too, but Draco heard nothing. It lit up Lucius's face once more, reflecting off the tears that were about to overflow his wide eyes. Draco saw his mouth move, and was frozen as another burst of light, this one bright green, exploded in front of him…

Something rammed him sideways, and as he tumbled over the streambed, his arm locked with someone else's. He heard something- an explosion behind him where the green light had hit the trees- but before he could see anything else, everything disappeared around him and he was being squeezed through the iron pipe of Disapparation, too stunned to feel its discomfort.

* * *

A/N: Man. MAN. That seems so short. But I guess you can just imagine the fireworks going off in character's heads right now. I love to set those off in my stories!  
If someone can name the Shakespearean play which was referenced in this chapter, they will get my applause.  
What to do with Festi and Toby? Any ideas? Will they disappear and never be heard of again? Will they be obscurely referenced? Will they come back much later as a significant plot point? Will they come back much sooner than expected?! Am I getting your hopes up for no reason? I hope you liked their little exchanges... maybe not as funny as other chapters, but still. Any ideas for later chapters would be appreciated, actually...

Nobody got the Today's Special from last chapter. The quote came from a famous skit (Beanie Weenies) by the Skit Guys. They're hilarious but they can also do some really moving skits. Check them out.

Today's Special: Name The Somewhat-Obscure-To-Speakers-Of-English Song

_Soyuz nerushimy, respublik svobodnikh,  
Splotila naveki velikaya rus'!  
Da zdrastvuyet sozdanny voley narodov  
Yediny, moguchiy, savyetskiy soyuz!  
_  
end special

tiger-SAMBA signing off


End file.
